The vessel beginning to recede, Galantine and the Fairy returned to the company, the latter much pleased at the progress of her negotiation. She told the Princess, on leaving her, that she should shortly come again to know her answer.
As soon as the Fairy was gone, Galantine related to her governess all that had passed between them. She was very sorry to see that her pupil was half inclined to yield to the Fairy's persuasions. She was dreadfully afraid of being compelled in her declining years to become an old Syren herself. To avert all the misfortunes she foresaw, she hit upon the following idea. As she could paint miniatures to perfection, she set to work, and by the next morning produced one of a young man with fair hair, dressed in large curls, the finest complexion in the world, blue eyes, and his nose slightly retroussé; in fact, presenting an assemblage of all the features that could compose a charming portrait, and we shall see in the end that some supernatural power must have assisted her in a work which she had undertaken solely to show Galantine the difference between a man of the world and her marine adorer, and so dissuade her from a marriage which was not at all to her taste.
When she presented her work to her, the Princess was struck with admiration, and asked her if it were possible that any man on earth could resemble that portrait. Bonnette assured her that there were many such, and some even handsomer. "I can scarcely believe it," replied Galantine, "but alas, neither the original of this portrait, nor any one like him, can ever be my husband. They will never see me, nor I them as long as I live. Oh, how miserable is my fate!"
Nevertheless, Galantine passed the whole day in gazing on this miniature. It had the effect Bonnette anticipated. It ruined Gluatin's affairs, which had previously been put in pretty good train; but the governess almost repented having painted so handsome a face, as the Princess gave up eating and drinking in order to have more time to gaze upon it. If ever a portrait was capable of inspiring a real passion, it was assuredly in this case and under the circumstances here related.
The Fairy Marine returned a few days after the visit we have described, to ascertain what were the intentions of Galantine; but this young creature, engrossed by her new passion (for she was positively in love with the portrait), could not control herself as prudence would have suggested. She not only broke off with the Fairy abruptly, but, what was worse, she exhibited so much contempt and aversion for Gluatin, that the Fairy, indignant at the style of her refusal, left the Princess with a determination to be revenged.
In the meanwhile the Princess had made a conquest she was unconscious of. The vessel she had seen so near her residence had on board the handsomest Prince in the world. He had heard of the Enchanted Tower, and determined to go nearer to it than any one had yet done. He possessed such excellent glasses, that in surveying the Tower, simply from a motive of curiosity, he caught sight of the Princess, and the best proof of the goodness of his glass, and that he must have seen her distinctly is, that he fell desperately in love with her.
Like a young man and a new lover, two conditions in which nothing is thought too hazardous, he was eager to cast anchor near the Tower, lower a boat, and encounter all the dangers that the enchantment could threaten him with; but all his crew upon their knees implored him not to venture. His Equerry, who was more frightened than any, or whose knowledge of the circumstances rendered him more competent to form an opinion, was most eloquent. "You would lead us all to certain death, my Lord," said he; "deign to return on shore, and I promise you to go in search of the Fairy Commode. She is a relation of mine, and has always been very fond of me. I will answer for her zeal and her skill. I am perfectly sure she will do you good service." The Prince yielded, but very reluctantly, to so many good arguments. He landed therefore on the nearest point of land, and despatched his Equerry to find his relative, and implore her protection and assistance. In the meanwhile he ordered a tent to be pitched on the sea shore, and, glass in hand, sat incessantly looking either at the Princess or at her prison, and his imagination becoming more and more excited, often presented to him its own creations for realities.
At the end of a few days the Equerry returned with the Fairy Commode. The Prince received her with the greatest demonstrations of affection. The Equerry had informed her during their journey of the state of the case. "In order to lose no time," said she to the Prince, "I will send a white pigeon, in which I place implicit confidence, to examine the enchantment. If he finds a flaw in it anywhere, he shall enter the garden that crowns the Tower, and I will order him to bring back some flowers as a proof that he succeeded in finding an entrance. If he can get in, I will soon find a way to introduce you." "But," said the Prince, "can I not, by means of your pigeon, send a note to the Princess, declaring the passion with which she has inspired me?" "Certainly you can," said Commode, "and I advise you to do so." The Prince immediately wrote the following letter:—
"Prince Blondin to Princess Galantine.
"I adore you, and I am aware of your destiny. If, beautiful Princess, you will deign to accept the homage of my heart, there is nothing I will not undertake to render myself the happiest of men by terminating your misfortunes.—Blondin."